


One Lead Sheet Between the Four of Us

by grunge_ish



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, I am so sorry for this, M/M, Multi, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, jonny dies at one point but he gets better, look i don't understand either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grunge_ish/pseuds/grunge_ish
Summary: Who was the fourth person under the lead sheet?The Toy Solider hates to be referred to as a person and never refers to itself as such.So, if we're supposed to believe that they stuck together, who was the fourth person that Jonny and Tim mention?This is just a bunch of concepts about another member of that little group that I like a lot.
Relationships: Bertie/Gunpowder Tim (The Mechanisms), Gunpowder Tim/Original Male Character, Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim, Jonny d'Ville/Original Male Character, Jonny d'Ville/Original Male Character/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	One Lead Sheet Between the Four of Us

**Author's Note:**

> But uh, the lyrics "one lead sheet between the four of us" and "all together now!" in GpTvtMK made me wonder who else could be there with them and that just made my gay brain lose it's absolute mind.
> 
> So this is super self-indulgent and based off a conversation my boyfriends and I had.

It was dark and quiet in the tunnels when Tim and Bertie finally settled down for the night. Jonny was sat a bit away from them, alone because the Toy Solider had joined the other side again or had been promoted, no one really knew or cared. The new member of their small group, they were ordered to stay in groups of four for safety reasons, settled near the middle of the group. His uniform was almost more tattered than Jonny's, but he was smiling and sitting up with perfect posture. There was a ring on his finger that glinted when the light hit it, he must've polished it recently. Jonny glared at him, annoyed because he had barely gotten to kill anyone today and because Tim and Bertie were being overly sappy with each other. Tim and Bertie were too busy fussing over the small wounds that the other had gained to really pay attention to the new guy. After looking at his options, he scooted closer to Jonny and held out a slightly cracked coffee cup full of some kind of liquid, Jonny thought it looked a little bit like old blood.

"Care for some whiskey?" A small smile split the man's face when Jonny looked from him to the cup and then back before taking it. 

"Ah yes," Jonny remarked, taking a long swig from the cracked cup. "whiskey in the trenches will always taste better than whiskey from anywhere else."

The new guy shook his head and rolled his eyes a little bit. "You just haven't had truly good whiskey then." Jonny made an annoyed noise, which caught Bertie's attention.

"If we're going to be fighting together, we might as well get acquainted a bit, don't you think Tim?" Bertie smiled over at his boyfriend who smiled back. 

"Probably." Tim turned back to Jonny and the new guy. "I'm Tim and this is Bertie." Both of them waved when their name was said. "That's Jonny." Jonny was still drinking from the cup so he didn't say anything, but he nodded slightly. 

"I'm, Travis." There was a slight hesitation in his voice, like he had never introduced himself before. "Nice to meet you all. If either of you want what he's having, I've got a few more cups of whiskey left."

Tim gave a small laugh and held his hand out. "It's not like it'll hurt." He held a hand out and Travis handed him two cracked coffee cups. Bertie hadn't asked, but he looked like he needed it. 

"So, what's your story?" Travis shook his head at Bertie's question. "I'm serious, Tim over here got drafted, so I signed up right with him." Bertie waved over at Jonny. "He's been having fun, so you just know that he signed up without much pushing." Bertie tapped his cup before taking a few small sips. "So, why're you here Travis?" 

Travis shrugged uncomfortably. "I wasn't drafted or anything, but I might as well have been. And we haven't been in a near death experience together yet, so that's all the trauma you have access to. Anything else comes at a higher friend level." Travis winked at them and Jonny sat up laughing. He was done with his whiskey and in much better spirits. 

No one pushed the whole backstory thing, it had been a long day for all of them and after drinking the whiskey Travis had brought, their conversations devolved into Tim and Bertie teaching the songs they had come up with to Travis and Travis frantically searching for the music sheets he had brought before he realized they had been destroyed in a microwave attack. This sent him into a fit of laughter which ending up infecting the rest of the group until they all fell asleep, closer than they had been before, physically and emotionally, as sappy as it is. 

* * *

It was several months later when Bertie and Travis dragged a bleeding Tim back to their little encampment. He had been shot and there was a chunk of his leg missing, not so much so that you could see the bone, but just enough that it was worrying. After they set him down, Bertie stayed with him, telling him repeatedly that he would be okay and holding his hand tightly. Travis went for the lead-plated med kit that he had stolen from the general's office and stashed under his own bedroll. Soon he was pulling out disinfectant, bandages, and mountains of gauze. Tim was barely breathing but he was weakly squeezing Bertie's hand, just as a way to show he was alive. 

"Bertie do you still have that tiny knife?" Travis held out his hand to Bertie while he set up his medical gear. 

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" Bertie handed Travis the knife and watched as he cut up the pant leg of Tim's uniform; exposing the wound and tying a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. They had tried to do that when he first went down but it hadn't worked, so they knew they had to drag him away. 

"Sorry about that Tim, I'll patch up your uniform later, I promise." Travis remarked as he began to coat some of the gauze in disinfectant, "This is going to hurt a little, I'm sorry." He shoved the gauze into the wound, holding Tim's leg down as he full body winced, cursing colorfully and slumping even more after he did so. Bertie took to petting his hair softly after that, promising him that he'd be just fine. "More than a little, but it's over now." Travis wrapped the wound tightly, making sure that Tim would still be able to move slightly, and removed the tourniquet. He dragged a hand down his face, unintentionally smearing a bit of Tim's blood on his face. 

Bertie handed him a not completely ruined handkerchief. "Here, you've got a little bit of blood on your face." Travis took it gratefully and wiped his face off. 

"Thanks Bertie." Travis checked Tim's pulse and smiled. "Yeah, he's going to be fine." Bertie sighed in relief and Travis slumped across from him. 

"You still got some of that whiskey?" Travis laughed tiredly and nodded, leaning over to his bedroll to pull a large wineskin out. He handed it to Bertie. "It's almost completely full. Do you not drink any? I've never seen you drink."

Travis shook his head. "No, I don't actually drink, but I thought this'd be a good way to get rid of it. Soldiers love whiskey don't they?" Bertie chuckled as he took a large swig from the wineskin. 

"Yeah, alright. You got me there. Is there any reason you don't drink or do you just not like the taste?"

Travis shrugged and made a few noncommittal motions with his hands before answering, his ring glinting as he did so. "I just don't like not having full control of myself." Bertie nodded and took another sip of the whiskey. Tim had been asleep for most of the conversation, but he was starting to come around, just before Bertie could ask Travis anymore questions. 

* * *

A few weeks later, during a microwave attack, Bertie had gone to sleep and so it was just Travis, Jonny, and Tim awake. Travis had been telling Jonny about the scare Tim gave them when Jonny scoffed. 

"Fucking loser. Imagine being mortal." Both Tim and Travis looked at Jonny like he was insane. 

Tim spoke first. "Excuse me what?" Jonny looked at him like he was stupid.

"Fucking. Loser. Imagine. Being. Mortal." He repeated himself slowly, as though Tim couldn't understand him. 

"No, we heard you loud and clear Jonny, but what the fuck does that mean?" Travis had scooted a bit away from Jonny as he reached to shift the lead sheet from the top of the foxhole. "Hey Jonny?? What the fuck are you doing??" Travis scooted away from Jonny faster and Tim did the same, going for the safety of the still covered section of the foxhole. They watched in horror as Jonny's skin began to split and bubble before it caught fire and he burned to death slowly, soon there was only ash and a metal heart laying in Jonny's place. Travis reached over and pulled the led sheet back to cover the foxhole and then turned to say something to Tim but Tim just tapped him repeatedly as the ashes of Jonny's body began to move and shift. They continued to watch, completely silent, as the ashes began to shift and grow, slowly reforming back into organ and bones and skin around the metal heart. Before they could really comprehend what the fuck had just happened, Jonny was standing in front of them again. Like nothing had happened. 

"Do you understand now? I'm immortal." Tim reached for his gun and shot Jonny in the head. "That was fucking rude. What the hell Tim?" The wound stayed for just a few seconds before Jonny's head knitted itself back up. Tim pointed his gun and Jonny again and Travis stepped in front of it this time. 

"That's not going to do anything Tim, so just stop it." Tim still didn't put his gun down, even though he was more likely to kill Travis than he was to kill Jonny. "The last thing we need is infighting. Seriously. Put it down Tim." Tim started to put his gun down, so Travis began to walk away. As Travis walked away, Tim shot at Jonny again, Travis was there again, and the shot which was aimed for Jonny's heart hit him in the shoulder. Jonny had been standing there with his arms open, allowing Tim to shoot at him as much as he wanted, but when Travis got shot, he grabbed him tightly. 

"Why would you take a shot for an immortal?" Travis laughed as he began to sink to the floor. Jonny looked up at Tim who was just staring at Travis and Jonny with a disbelieving expression on his face. "Don't just fucking stand there you bastard! Go get his medkit!" Jonny yelled at him and Tim went to do it immediately. 

"Like I said, we don't need infighting and you said it yourself, that's fucking rude." Jonny just looked at Travis for a moment while Tim got to work patching up his wound. 

"Do you just have no sense of self preservation at all?" Tim asked when he was finished with Travis. 

Travis rolled his shoulder, testing it. "No, no I do not."

* * *

After several more months with the little group, Travis still hadn't told them his tragic backstory(tm), but he had heard Tim, Bertie, and Jonny's stories. They were in the trenches, Travis was checking ammunition and acting primarily as a medic while Bertie, Tim, and Jonny shot through several lines of Lennys. Normally they were the only people from their side that they saw, a lot of their countrymen being afraid of Jonny, but this time there was a group, once again of four, that had found them and decided to stick around. They were amicable, most of them a good shot and the one that wasn't was a quick thinker. 

"Whiskey anyone?" Travis pulled out his wineskin and shook it slightly, if you were paying attention you would notice that it was a different wineskin than he offered Bertie, but no one really noticed. Everyone took Travis up on his offer, but one person in the new group kept staring at him. "What's up? Do I have something on my face?" He started patting his face but the guy shook his head. He was a little bit older than the rest of his group or he seemed to be at least. 

"You just look like someone I know, but I can't place it yet." Travis shook his head. 

"I've never seen you before. I'm sorry man." But this guy wouldn't leave it alone. 

"I used to work as a palace guard. Did you spend any time there?"

Travis shook his head, almost too quickly. "Nope. Only ever went for school trips." The guy looked at him for a little bit longer, and this point everyone else started to notice how uncomfortable Travis had become. Just as Tim started to move over, the guy looked Travis up and down, then settled on his left hand, where he wore his ring. Recognition flashed in the guy's eyes. 

"Princess Eleanor!" The guy yelled suddenly and everyone just stared at him. 

All the blood drained from Travis's face but he laughed it off. "You need to get your eyes checked man. She went missing several years ago. And I'm not her."

The guy shook his head. "No, you're clearly a prince now, but you've got her nose and her eyes, those eyes don't just pop up everywhere. You're princess Eleanor, or at least, you used to be."

Travis shook his head again, but the guy would not budge. So Travis leaned over and grabbed Tim's gun, he got it half-way pointed at his head before Jonny tackled him to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hand. "Travis what the fuck?"

Travis squirmed out of Jonny's grasp and popped his knuckles. "Thought that'd get us talking about something else." He turned to one of the other members of the ex-palace guard's group with a small smile. "So, why are you in the British infantry?" They went around like that for a little while, sharing the stories. The ex-palace guard insisted on calling Travis prince and my lord the entire time though. 

In the morning, the entire group had disappeared. Travis had woken up early, saying that he had sleep awfully and needed to take a nap. There was blood on his hands when he got back, but no one said anything. Not even Jonny. 

* * *

A few days later, it was just Jonny and Travis in their encampment, Tim and Bertie had gone to scout some stuff out, or make out, you could never really tell with those two. Jonny was on his third cup of Travis's whiskey when he turned to him and put his cup down, showing that he meant business.

"Tell me the truth Travis, did you join the war to die?" The question shocked Travis, and he didn't look at Jonny when he answered. 

"Yes. I've been trying to die for a while now, but I've been in this godsdamned war for over two years now and I'm still here." 

Jonny picked his cup back up. "Why not do it yourself?"

Travis laughed. "Giving myself top surgery seemed to be a surefire way to do that, but here I am. And stepping in front of a bus. And then stepping in front of train. And then purposefully pissing off a bunch of bikers. And throwing yourself off a cliff. Every single time something out of my control saved me. A doctor finding me and saving me. The bus stopping just a centimeter before hitting me. The train derailing and crashing into a tree a meter from me. The bikers left me with just enough life to recover. The sea was calm that day, and I misjudged my jump."

"Jesus fucking christ." Jonny offered Travis his cup. "I think you need this more than I do."

Travis shook his head. "Yeah, no thank you. I don't actually drink."

Jonny nodded and took another sip of his whiskey. "Why not just shoot yourself?"

Travis started to pick at his uniform. "In my family, when you die, they don't cremate or bury you, they stuff you and display you." He shrugged and looked at Jonny. "I don't want to be stuffed. Especially as Eleanor." He looked back at the ground. "I'd rather be forgotten by everyone than be remembered as Eleanor." Jonny rubbed soft circles into Travis's back. 

"Yeah, I get it." He thought a joke would lighten the mood. "So, am I high enough friend level to unlock that backstory or?" Travis laughed and rubbed a hand across his face. 

"If you can wait until Tim and Bertie are around to hear it, yeah, I guess you're high enough friend level to unlock the story." As he said this, Bertie stuck his head in. 

"Nothing to report! What were you two talking about?" He sat across from Jonny and Travis, and Tim sat next to him. 

"Travis just decided that we're worthy to hear his so extremely tragic backstory." Tim and Bertie laugh along with Jonny and Travis rolled his eyes. 

"Alright fuckers, get ready." Travis started.

* * *

Tim had been gone for three days after Bertie died and Jonny was asleep when he finally got back. He was bleeding from several places all over his body and his hands were bleeding worst of all. Travis was cleaning his gun when he looked up and saw Tim. He jumped up and dragged Tim into a hug. 

"You fucking bastard! Where the hell have you been? Jonny and I have been worried sick. Okay well, it's mostly me but stil!!" Travis pushed down on Tim's shoulders to make him sit down and then grabbed his medkit. "Don't ever fucking make me worry like that again you fucking asshole." 

"I'm sorry, I just-" Travis cut him off. 

"I get it Tim, I swear I do, but you've got to take care of yourself." Once Travis had everything out that he needed he looked Tim up and down. "Alright, strip. I need to see where you're hurt."

Tim flushed slightly. "Damn, at least get me dinner first." He joked, following Travis's instruction. 

Travis chuckled slightly and inspected Tim, marking the places he would need to disinfect. "What the fuck have you been doing out there Tim? You're covered in bullet, laser, and slash wounds." Tim just shrugged and Travis grabbed the disinfectant soaked gauze that he had prepared. "Alright, this might hurt a bit, just try to relax." He repeatedly pressed the gauze into the several wounds that Tim had acquired throughout his murder spree. He hissed in pain every single time. After pressing in the gauze, Travis wrapped the wounds tightly. "Alright, if you want to put your uniform back on you can. If not, I'll patch it up for you." 

"Thank you." Tim didn't put his uniform back on, he was wearing an undershirt and shorts, that was enough for now. 

Travis grabbed Tim's bloody hands. "Oh I'm not done. Seriously Tim, what have you been doing out there? Tearing them apart with your bare hands?"

Tim shrugged apologetically. "Yeah actually." 

"This is going to hurt, but I'm not sorry about that, because you're being fucking stupid." Travis poured disinfectant over Tim's fingers and held on to his hands tighter as he winced and tried to pull them away."

"What the fuck Travis?" Tim spit, he wasn't angry, just in pain. Travis just slowly wrapped his hands up though, ignoring his questions. 

"I'd offer you some whiskey, but you need to go to bed soon."

Tim shook his head. "I think I'll stay up a little bit later. I like your company."

Travis pulled out something and began fiddling with it, but Tim couldn't see what it was, he assumed he was polishing his ring. "Alright, but, if you fall asleep out here, I'm not tucking your ass in."

* * *

It was a week later when Jonny came back from checking out the trenches to an empty encampment. Something bright glinted near his bedroll and he went to pick it up. It was Travis's ring. He had left it. Jonny knew what this meant. He knew that Travis had finally accomplished what he had been gunning for this entire time. As he slipped the ring on his finger and then his glove back on, a single tear fell from his eyes. He tried to tell himself that this is what Travis had wanted, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong and would never be right again. When Tim got back and told him about a bastard Lenny that had the audacity to smile when he killed him, realization sunk deep into Jonny's gut and twisted everything up.

Tim didn't know that Travis had met his end until Jonny showed him the ring. He had also found something in his bedroll, a small lead ring with a date carved in it. The date didn't mean much to him, but he recognized who had made it. He put it on and as he looked at it, he remembered the smiling Lenny. His heart dropped to the floor and anger replaced sadness which was replaced with despair which was replaced with rage and finally it was all replaced with numbness. It wasn't until he heard Jonny humming one of Bertie's songs that he felt something again. 


End file.
